


But what can we do?

by TransverseLadybird



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 5x02, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode 5x02: Red Queen, Episode Related, Episode Spoilers, Fluff (tiny amount), M/M, Nightmares, Season 5 Spoilers, Some discussion on suicidal thoughts, because it's consistent with the episode, general horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 03:45:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14511834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransverseLadybird/pseuds/TransverseLadybird
Summary: Miller and Jackson are struggling with the peace-keeping tactics of Wonkru, and it is taking a toll on their relationship. This is a one-shot of the couple trying to deal with their life.





	But what can we do?

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited for more Mackson fics! I wrote some after 4x09 but I'm so glad they're proper canon. Sorry that my contribution is so doom and gloom, but hopefully there's a tiny bit of hope and fluff at the end to make up for it.

**Sometime in the last 6 years...**

 

Jackson slipped in, closing the door quietly behind him. Miller was slumped in his chair, his head resting wearily on the table. His gun lay by his side. It never left his side. It was the very thing that had caused them to finally break down. Jackson swallowed hard; even just the sight of the weapon sickened him.

He did the only thing he could manage, he lay his hand on Miller's neck, kneeling quietly beside him.

"Eric?" Mumbled Miller, like he wasn't sure. He lifted his head, and Jackson drew a pained breath. He looked little better than death.

"Hey, Nate," murmured Jackson softly.

"I thought you wouldn't ever talk to me again," said Miller, and his voice was as dead as his face.

"Not possible," said Jackson, his voice cracking. He couldn't stop imagining all the people he'd treated who were in the hospital because of Miller. But as soon as he'd realised that was one step better than treating Miller, he'd come to find him.

"I can't turn my back on her," mumbled Miller. "She needs me. Bellamy..." He cut that train of thought down. "She needs all of us, or it all falls apart."

"I know, I get it," said Jackson, "I've never been able to turn my back on Clarke, or Abby. No matter what they've chosen."

A single speck of life seemed to creep back into Miller's face at the understanding. "I don't like it. How could I like it?" His voice trailed at the end so Jackson had to lean forward to hear him. "But what's the alternative?"

"That none of us survive."

"And wouldn't that be bliss." Jackson's heart broke at the words coming out of his partner's mouth, but he couldn't find it in himself to disagree.

Miller was a soldier. Jackson had always known that about him. But watching him become hardened to the fights was killing him. Watching him kill, and kill, and kill to protect Octavia was destroying them.

"We do what we have to do," said Jackson, swallowing the bile that rose up at the thought of everything they were having to do to stay alive. "But when we get out of here." Miller tried to scoff but Jackson spoke over him. " _When_ we get out of here, we forget it."

"Just like that?" Murmured Miller, with a tired, twisted half smile.

"No." Countless nights, when Miller had woken screaming and flailing, when Jackson hadn't slept for days because all he could see when he closed his eyes was torn flesh and bodies ripped apart at the hands of other humans. Those nightmares would never be gone. "But I won't lose you to this. I won't lose the man who risked his life to stop Pike murdering grounders. To stop A.L.I.E taking our free will. The man who believed in _humans_. In people. I won't lose him to this."

Miller didn't look so sure. "You always have hope," he said, choking out a sarcastic laugh.

"I have _you_ ," Jackson corrected. "And I will wake you from every nightmare you ever have. I will stitch every wound you get. I will watch you risk your life every day to maintain this horrible farce of peace. And when we get out, we will leave this horror behind us, even if it means running away."

"I would run away with you," said Miller, and he finally smiled properly. It was still tired, it still didn't reach the death behind his eyes, but it was something.

 


End file.
